Some battles do not shout,
they whisper.
They live in the pause before sleep,
in the breath you forget to take,
in the smile you practice
like a language you were never taught.
The mind is a crowded room
where memories pace like restless ghosts,
where hope sits quietly in the corner,
waiting to be invited back into the light.
You learn that strength
is not always standing tall.
Sometimes it is sitting with the pain
without letting it define your name.
Sometimes it is choosing tomorrow
when today feels unfinished.
Healing is not a straight road.
It bends, it breaks, it doubles back.
There are days you bloom.
and days you simply survive
both are victories the world rarely applauds.
Speak gently to yourself.
You are not weak for feeling deeply.
You are human for carrying storms
and still searching for the sun.
And if all you did today
was breathe,
then know this:
even that
was an act of courage.